


Sought

by HouseOfFinches



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, I Tried, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-08 21:24:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14702619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseOfFinches/pseuds/HouseOfFinches
Summary: Kylo-Ren finds Rey when she is on a mission alone.Basically just smut?





	Sought

**Author's Note:**

> Hello I’m new to this ship!  
> Also hoping I got the characterization right? I guess we’ll see.

It was the whisper of quiet that comes after snow, the way the world is still settled inside itself, nestled in feathers and fur and cloth. Flames crackled evenly against water-logged wood, casting an amber glow along the dusted ground. The sun was hidden behind the clouds of yawning sky, dusk looming along the horizon.

 

She was camping in this nook of the forest, tucked away from common paths and roads and onlookers. The woods were double edged: soothing in their isolation, the smell of earth, yet making her skin bristle with a primitive fear of being found, of being hunted.

 

Yet the evening remained calm, the only noise the occasional chirp of far off animals, either awakening for the night or settling in for sleep like she was.

 

She’d pitched a small tent, lined with fur and the light weight down blanket she’d manage to barter for. Dinner had passed and now there was nothing to do but rest and wait for dawn.

 

She hated resting.

 

It ate at her, her muscles demanding movement, production, _action._ The saber on her hip seemed to resonate the feeling, as if it too was tired of waiting.

 

As she was mulling over the next day’s trek to the secluded rendezvous point she heard it: snow shifting beneath feet, earth sighing under weight.

 

She stood, muscles rejoicing with movement, hand reflexively hovering above her hip, ready to draw, to fight.

 

And that’s when she felt it.

 

A shift in the air, in the molecules around them.

 

_Him._

_“Rey...”_ she felt, not heard, him call.

 

The sound of twigs breaking bounced off trees. He was circling her, predatory, hungry.

 

She watched him approach, appearing like mist from shadows, his form dark like the force she felt decaying his heart.

 

He stood at a distance, taking in her small camp before settling his gaze on her, steely and cold.

 

“What are you doing here?” She asked, tone reflecting the apathy she read in his face.

 

“I wasn’t looking for you, Rey. I was passing through.. and then I _felt_ you.” His brows pulled together, just barely, belying the confusion that their connection caused him. 

 

“I was under the impression you’re always looking for me,” her tone remained cool. “If I’d known otherwise, I might have picked a nicer place to stay the night,” she quipped.

 

An amused smirk ghosted his face. It was so strange to see him respond to her, to see him finally be human beneath his stony facade.

 

He drew closer, languorous strides, an air of indifference, as if she weren’t a threat.

 

It made anger rise in her, burn at her cheeks and tempt her fingers to wrap around the weapon so tantalizing close. 

 

He’d insulted her and he’d done it on purpose, if the grin he shot her was any indication. Frustration bristled under her skin.

 

“What do you want?” She barked at him. She wasn’t in the mood for his games, for the drawn out dialogue that resembled tactical torture. 

 

“What are you doing out here alone?” He questioned, voice low and full of mock concern. He glanced around them again, as if looking for the trap she’d laid, for the army that was ready to spring forward any second.

 

There was no trap. There was no army.

 

There was only her, her breath heavy with restraint and anger, his body unnervingly close to hers.

 

“Do you expect me to answer that?” Her annoyance was biting, seething into each beat of her words.

 

“No,” he whispered, the hush of his voice calm, as if everything he did had to be the opposite of her reaction. 

 

He paced again, circling around her, his shoulder nearly brushing her hair as he passed.

 

And there she saw it, a glimpse, a flash.

 

_Desire._

The image of him reaching up to sweep her hair aside, to lean in and kiss the soft flesh of her neck, to feel the heat of her body beneath his fingertips.

 

As quickly as it came, it passed.

 

She turned to look at him, his expression faltering, unsettled.

 

“Did..did you feel that?” he asked, voice low and rushed.

 

“Yes,” was all she could manage, heat coloring her cheeks and pooling in her stomach.

 

“I don’t understand it,” anger colored his voice, breaking with strain, frustration.

 

“This shouldn’t be happening. It’s not supposed to work like this.” He was close to her again, irritation pulling his features into something unreadable, something torn.

 

_Conflicted._

 

Did he feel it, too? The way the air was charged when he drew near, the way the rest of the universe seemed to still?

 

She watched as realization broke across his face. 

 

“Can.. can you hear me, too?” She asked, feeling her voice shake with fear and uncertainty. He was right. This shouldn’t be happening. And it certainly shouldn’t be eliciting such a confusing response within her.

 

He had done monstrous things. She hadn’t forgotten, the scar on his face a reminder of the things they were both capable of.

 

And yet...

 

Here they were, in the midst of an entirely different kind of standoff, both jittery, frozen in place by anxiety, by the unknown. 

 

She relaxed her posture, moving her hand to lie along her side, no longer defensive. He watched her, recognizing the motion’s significance, _understanding_.

 

Slowly, so slowly, he reached out, letting his fingers graze the back of hand before trailing up, his touch tentative and unsure. His eyes drifted from his finger’s trek, looking to her face, trying to read the expression he found there.

 

She wasn’t sure what he saw. Whatever it was it, he must have found it reassuring, as his fingers traced her collar, moving higher along her neck before sifting into her hair.

 

Her heart pounded wildly in her chest. Could he feel the erratic thrum of her pulse beneath his touch?

 

She was staring at his mouth, watching the way he drew shallow breaths, the neurons in her lips calling for that same action her body demanded earlier, only this was entirely different.

 

On impulse she moved forward, shifting upward and into him, lightly moving her mouth against his. His throaty sigh spurred her on, her lips crashing against his with more fervor, more heat. She was lost in the sensation of him, the clean smell of his soap, the hard planes of his body pressed firmly against her, the way his hands roamed greedily along her skin.

 

He tilted his head, moving his attention down her jaw, her neck, a wet trail of lips and tongue and teeth. She sighed with pleasure, reveling in the feel of him, in the way his touch sent a wave of heat through her body that surged at her core.

 

Emboldened, she let her hands wander along him, slinking lower, until she traced the outline of the hardness she felt pressed against her stomach.

 

He moaned in response, the sound like her touch was searing, flooding her with want. He gripped her tight, gently guiding her backwards while working the cloth of her top off her shoulders.

 

He lead them to her small tent, climbing in first.

 

“Come here,” he demanded, his desire unrestrained on his face. She obeyed, this time her body flitted with anticipation rather than anger at his command.

 

She hadn’t realized how cold the evening had grown until she was in the small space with him, the heat from their bodies warming the air between them.

 

They were kneeled before each other, fingers working clumsily to loosen the leather and gauze of the clothes that restricted their access. He was quicker than she, leaving her topless, exposed. A sudden shyness crept in, making her skin flush beneath his gaze.  

 

“I don’t understand this,” he said, cupping her face between his hands, “but I don’t want it to stop,” he sighed, his mouth descending on hers, hungry and predator-like again. 

 

She fumbled with the belt at his waist, finally releasing the material there. He broke the kiss, both taking the moment to hurriedly remove what was left of their clothing before reuniting, the feel of him flush against her, skin on skin, set her nerves ablaze. Frantic, she placed kisses where she could, dragging her mouth against his muscles, his flesh, tasting him and biting him, the power of having him here and so vulnerable a heady rush.

 

He laid her back, and again she was so grateful for the down blanket. He made his way up her thighs, marking her with nips and soothing them over with his tongue.

 

Confidently—he seemed so frustratingly sure of her—he brought his tongue to her core, giving a teasing lap. It was jarring, electric—a spike of heat and want to her system, threatening to make her come undone right there. Again he lapped at her, delving into her folds before circling in on that bundle of nerves. 

 

She clawed at his shoulders, heard herself moaning wantonly and unable to stop herself. He worked her for a moment before running his hand up her thigh and slowly adding a finger to the sensation. She gasped—it was all nearly too much. Before she fell over the edge, he withdrew, rising up to smirk at her, devious. Frustration at the loss of sensation fueled her, she reached up to pull him down, his weight pleasurably pressing along her.

 

“Please,” she breathed, watching his expression fall into something desperate, unchecked. He lined himself up with her, a teasing stroke against her folds before he entered her, slow but forceful. 

 

He filled her entirely, the stretch ecstasy, heightened by the soreness she knew she’d feel in the morning. He pulled back, slow and dragging, before thrusting into her again, rough and unreserved.

 

He began to quicken the pace, wrapping his arms under her shoulders, her back, drawing her upward, closer. She moved her hips to meet him, finding the angle where he ground into her just right, the echo of her earlier peak threatening to boil over once again.

 

The small tent was humid with their heat, the only sound in the still woods was their moans, the sudden gasp of his when she encircled her legs around him, granting him access deeper, harder.

 

“More...” she pleaded against his skin, enjoying the way he groaned with constraint against her request.

 

Their bodies were slick with exertion, his fingers easily sliding down the skin of her stomach, finding her core. He worked circles there, finding a rhythm, and it didn’t take long—it was a crest, her nails biting at his skin while her muscles tightened around him, her eyes tightly shut against the blinding light that seemed to spark from the inside out.

 

She distantly felt him orgasm too, a guttural moan against her neck, the stuttering of his hips, her name a whisper pressed against her skin.

 

He stilled, still inside her, his face cradled between her neck and shoulder, their chests still heavily rising and falling with exertion. She felt him smile, felt the soft contended sigh before he removed himself from her, the sudden loss of him making her feel empty. He settled against her side, head still resting along her shoulder. 

 

She watched the fire outside turn to embers, a scarlet glow burning against the dark of night. Slowly she stroked his hair, felt his breathing grow even with sleep. She didn’t know what the morning would bring but she found solace in moment, letting this peacefulness settle within her.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
